You Deserve It
by Just-Plain-Roo
Summary: Any day now he'll come strutting through the door. Cigar in one hand, Tiffany bag in the other. When he walks through that door, I'll step aside. I'll let you go back to him. Why? Because I love you, and you deserve to be happy. With him. C/B. ONESHOT


**A/N - this tiny little fic was the result of fifteen minutes to spare and an overwhelming urge to write something. No idea where the idea came from, I literally just sat down and typed. Hope you enjoy, reviews are loved and very much appreciated.**

You ask if I love you. If I need you. If I want you.

Of course, I do. You shouldn't have to ask. You should take it for granted; never questioning, always believing.

But you don't. You can't. You won't.

I could whisper my devotion in your ear every second, of every hour, of every day. I could say those words to you, those three precious words, as often as you wanted to hear them. I could tattoo them on my skin, print them for the whole world to see. Make it so that there could never be any doubt in anyone's mind.

Anyone's mind, but yours. The only person that truly matters.

You once loved so completely, so blindly, so wholly. Only to have your heart broken, time and time again. By others. Never by me.

You opened yourself up, allowed yourself to be vulnerable, and you got torn to pieces in return. Every time.

You ask if I would do anything for you. If I would kill for you. If I would die for you.

The answer is yes. If I could, I would slowly and carefully eliminate every thing and every one that has ever caused you pain. Your parents, Yale, Nate and Serena, _Chuck_... I would destroy them all in the blink of an eye, if it meant you would be whole again.

But I can't. Because if they went, what's left of you would go too. And I can't let that happen. Even a small fraction of Blair is infinitely better than no Blair at all. No Blair at all is inconceivable. It's impossible.

It's inevitable.

Any day now, he'll come strutting through that door. An expensive cigar in one hand, a small blue Tiffany bag in the other. His debonair look will be complete with a cocky smirk, a confident swagger, and a dark, lustful comment that will disguise the fact that his heart has stopped beating, his eyes have glazed over, and he is overcome with emotion at the sight of you.

You, Blair Waldorf. The most perfect being on the planet. The only woman that Chuck Bass has ever loved. And the one thing that he had ever let get away.

He had gone away and left you. He had healed himself, while you stayed broken. Learned to love himself, while you loathed yourself.

He's whole now. Ready to start again. And so are you. You just don't know it yet.

I've been preparing for this day since I found you in that bathroom six months ago, I mopped the sweat off of your forehead and cleaned the vomit from your hair. I fixed what little I could, cajoled you into eating and sleeping, forced you to face your darkest fears and strengthen your defenses.

I loved you, when you most needed it. I kissed you, when you wanted to forget. I took care of you, when you would let nobody else in.

But it's his turn now.

He'll be the one to take care of you. Love you, kiss you, take care of you. He'll fix you. Put back the pieces that I couldn't. He knows how, because he's the one that caused them to shatter in the first place. He doesn't deserve you, if you had any sense at all you'd see that and send him away. But you won't.. Because you love him.

When he walks through that door, I'll step aside. I'll let you go back to him. Take myself out of the equation. You have enough to deal with without worrying about me.

I'll always be somewhere in the back of your thoughts, I'm vain enough to admit that. You _do_ love me. But whereas I'm at the back, he's left, right, and center. And everything in between.

Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. Legendary. Infamous. Real.

I won't take his place. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

I'll let you go to him. Set the two of you free once and for all.

You deserve it, even if he doesn't deserve you.

But that's alright, because neither do I.


End file.
